


A Life

by Ketita



Category: Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Catharsis, Revenge, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:09:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24550606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ketita/pseuds/Ketita
Summary: Hild is getting tired of lugging around the responsibility for Thorfinn's life.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	A Life

Hild stepped out of the tree canopy to where the rest of the crew puttered on the beach setting up camp, as if they had not a care in the world. The quiet months since Jomsborg with no attacks had made them complacent. Except Hild, of course.

"Thorfinn," she called, even his name distasteful on her tongue. "You should come look at this."

He straightened up, moving with more alacrity than necessary, as if his speed would mollify her, or somehow prove him sincere. Just once, she wished he would balk or complain, give her an excuse.

Assuming they all knew what she needed him for, since they were the two violence-dealers in the crew, he told Einar and Gudrid that he'd be back to help in a few moments, and came towards Hild. She knew this expression, but then, she knew _all_ of them. The tilt of his eyebrows betrayed discomfort, though he tried to look relaxed.

"What is it?" he asked, mostly for show. She owed him nothing, not even an answer, and he didn't expect one.

"This way." Hild led him into the woods and he followed, looking around for a threat, forgetting that Hild was the greatest threat around. Her jaw tightened with annoyance. Did he think they were on the same side?

Complacency, she thought, was more than he deserved.

They reached a quiet clearing, just inland enough that the trees screened them from view, though the sea still glittered between them. Hild took out her crossbow, cocked it, and pointed it at Thorfinn's deceptively-innocent face.

"Hild?" he said, voice going thin at the end, and the last traces of humor washed off his face. "Did… I do something?" His eyes had gone round and pleading already.

"You need to ask what you've done?" she spat back.

"No, I… I know…" he swallowed thickly, his shoulders slumping. Hardly a shred of fight in him. "But I thought you agreed…"

"Your life is mine," she said flatly. "I don't need an excuse to be rid of its weight."

He looked back, once, an almost-aborted movement.

"Do you think Einar will rescue you again?" she sneered. "He won't make it in time."

"I know," he said. His hands dangled empty at his sides, and his expression turned entreating. "Hild, if you will give me more time—I know I can fix things. Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it." His body jerked forward, then stopped when she shifted the crossbow in warning.

He couldn't win this fight, but Hild saw no sign that he'd even try. He just stood, looking up at her helplessly, a shaking and brittle caricature of the man who'd told the Vikings of Jomsborg to dismantle their fort.

If only he'd break through his mask, just once, to show the killer beneath, she'd have had a quarrel in his head already. But he didn't. He just wallowed in his pathetic misery, as if enough nightmares, enough crying, enough sad-eyed looks would make a difference to anyone.

"Will you beg?" she asked, offhand, and his eyes lit up with feverish hope.

"If that's—" he dropped to his knees immediately. "Please—"

"How many people have begged you for mercy?"

Thorfinn's mouth shut, and his head lowered enough to curl his back. "You're right," he said in a small, defeated voice. Hild hated it, hated him for being so abject, hated herself for winding him up.

"That's it?" she said. "Nothing else to say? No last words for your wife and child?"

In the distance, Karli's laughter rang, and Thorfinn's head jerked up again. Ah, a new expression. Hild studied it. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but found no words.

"Are you wishing you could say goodbye?" she asked. His breath hitched, and new horror glistened in his eyes. Anger pulsed through her gut, hot and old with the weight of years. "Think of all the fathers who never went home because of you," she hissed. "You say you only live for Vinland? That your life is mine? You want this for _yourself_."

"I'm sorry," he said, almost wild. "I'm _sorry_ , you're right, I shouldn't—"

He floundered, a wounded animal in a trap, waiting for the killing blow he deserved. A dark sort of satisfaction spread counterpoint to her anger, drinking up his pain, a reflection of her own torment. Thorfinn would let her do _anything_ to him.

"If I shoot you in the gut," she mused, "you'll have enough time to say goodbye."

And then she chilled at the words that had left her mouth, at the pathetic hope in his eyes. Too much. This was no hunt, no stalking of prey, this sick thing between them. She should have killed him the first time. But she hadn't, and now this farce of a hunt would make her into an instrument of torture, not a huntress.

Her finger quivered on the trigger. "I'm tired of carrying the weight of your life," she said. "It's destroying me. This… isn't who I want to be."

From beyond the trees, Einar's voice called Thorfinn's name, an edge of suspicion in his voice. Thorfinn didn't even move, dulled and desperate, eyes on the crossbow.

"Enough." Hild removed the bolt, stepped closer and pressed it into one of his lax hands. "There's your life," she said roughly. " _You_ carry it. You go to Vinland and keep your word."

"What?"

His scarred fingers didn't move, so she pushed them closed around the bolt.

"I'm through with you," she said, and stepped back. She couldn't look at him. Her heart thudded wildly in her ears, but she felt strangely light. No more of this… this _slavery_.

"Wait," he said, and when she looked back, he was holding the bolt out. "What do I do now? I've been protecting my life for _you_."

"You'll have to figure something out." Maybe she was wrong, and _this_ was the cruelest thing she'd ever done to him.

"But—"

"Heavy, isn't it?" she said, and then Einar burst into the tableau.

"Thorfinn!" As expected, he threw himself at Thorfinn, his broad back cutting Hild off as he ran his hands over Thorfinn's shoulders inspecting for injuries. The look he shot Hild edged loathing. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing," she said, felt a twinge of remorse, followed by relief that this would never have to happen again. She was done.

"Thorfinn?" Now Gudrid came, and while she didn't exhibit Einar's antagonism, suspicion darkened her eyes. Then she, too, forgot about Hild, as Thorfinn began to crackingly reassure them that he was fine, nothing happened, he was _fine_.

Hild stepped back into the forest and took a deep breath of pine and salt air. She would give them some time, she thought. Now she was free to think of a future, which suddenly yawned unknown. Hunting on the mountain would wait for her, of course, but before that… without the dark weight of Thorfinn's life hanging around her neck…

Maybe she could make some friends.

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of inspired by what I would have liked to see from Hild. I hope we'll get a good resolution for her arc, though as of now we're not quite seeing it yet. I figured I might as well post my own take before it becomes obsolete, haha.  
> I personally find the connection between her and Thorfinn interesting because it's so messed up. Even worse, in a way, than what Thorfinn had with Askeladd (though that had plenty of its own issues).


End file.
